


Hot Coffee (Chris Evans x Reader)

by Steggy



Series: Tumblr Prompts [9]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe RPF
Genre: Curses, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-09
Updated: 2016-05-09
Packaged: 2018-06-07 07:20:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,149
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6793030
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Steggy/pseuds/Steggy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Despite your best friend trying to convince you otherwise, Chris Evans seemed to exist just to annoy you. And then you wake up late for your call to set, freaking the hell out, and are met with that same asshat, Chris Evans, grinning at you with a coffee cup when you get there.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hot Coffee (Chris Evans x Reader)

**Author's Note:**

> bother me on twitter @alyjevans or on tumblr @spangledcap & @poorcap

Groaning, you throw your pillow over your head as your best friend babbles on and on about this crazy fantasy she has somehow embedded into her head, complete with some sparkles and rainbows, maybe some unicorns. All about how much Chris loved you, how much he wanted you, how you two were going to end up married. It made you want to puke.

“Come _on_ , [Y/N], how can you not see that he’s totally in love with you?” She squeals into the phone. You seriously wished you could punch her right through the tiny screen. Especially since she woke you up way earlier than you wanted to just to go through all this shit again over some stupid interview.

“Because he’s _t_ _otally_ not,” You mumble into the pillow. All it does is elicit a frustrated huff from your best friend over the speakerphone.

“But the way that he was looking at you during that press conference for the movie--”

“Yeah, he was looking at me like that because he had stuck gum to my seat and was waiting for me to stand up to make fun of me.”

“Well, they always say that boys don’t know how to show a girl--”

At your breaking point because of countless calls just like this one in a span of three days, you throw the pillow off of your face and snap. “Oh my god, would you just knock it off? He doesn’t like me, alright?”

There’s a few moments of silence on the other end before she speaks up again. “Fine. He doesn’t like you. Have a good day on set. Talk to you later.”

“Hey, wait, I didn’t--” But your phone gave a few beeps, indicating that she had ended the call. Sighing, you turn over in bed and stare at the clock on your nightstand, reading quarter to six.

But the next time you look at that clock, it’s been beeping quietly for over an hour, and it reads eight twenty-eight. You were supposed to be on set a half an hour ago.

“ _Shit,_ ” You cuss at yourself, scrambling out of bed, heart racing, already sweating despite not even having stepped into the Atlanta heat yet today. The director was sure to be pissed, Chris was sure to be laughing his ass off because you were embarrassing to look at, even after you had gotten yourself ready, and you were freaking out that you were about to lose your first real acting job in your first real movie.

By the time you get to the set, Chris is already in his Captain America gear, his blonde wig secured to his stupid head, and he’s leaning against your trailer door with a cup of coffee in his hand.

You groan as you approach him, wanting to knock that stupid smile off of his face and just get into your trailer, get ready, and hope that the director isn’t too mad by the time you make it out there. “Don’t.”

“Don’t what?” Chris asks, smiling nonchalantly as he pushes off of the door and closes the bit of distance between you. “I just brought you coffee. Figured you were running late because you had a bad night or something.”

Your lips purse together in thought, studying him intently to try and find the crack in his mask. He was never nice to you unless he wanted something or was about to extend your embarrassment and double your hatred for him. Cautiously, you meet his extended hand and take the warm coffee cup out of his hand, though still extremely suspicious. “Alright. What do you want?”

Chris feigns a look of hurt and splays one of his hands over his chest. “Me? Why would I want anything more than to see my favorite co-star’s morning improve with an innocent cup of coffee?”

Now you were really suspicious. Rolling your eyes, you readjust your bag on your shoulder with your free hand. “Don’t play dumb, Evans. I get that you hate me and all. You don’t have to pretend. So, what is this coffee going to cost me?”

The expression on his face falls, and for a moment, you think you might have actually hurt his feelings. If he had any. As you slowly, warily take a sip of the coffee,  he says, “I may despise you with the burning white hot intensity of the sun, but that doesn’t mean I don’t love you.”

You nearly choke on your coffee, coughing, spitting out the small sip onto the ground, blinking rapidly. “Excuse me?”

There’s a muffled thud as Chris leans back against your trailer door again, folding his arms over his chest as a radiant grin takes hold of his lips. “Thought it was obvious, there, [Y/N]. Why else would I pick on you so bad?”

Still disbelieving, blinking up at him, you can’t process what’s being said quickly enough.

Chris waves a hand in your face. “Hello? Just confessed my love for you, it’d be nice if I got a reply?”

“Sorry,” You shake your head, trying to snap yourself out of it. “Are you fucking with me?”

Chris laughs. Hard. Slaps his hand over his chest, tilts his head back, and laughs. Then he runs his hand through his fake blonde locks and shakes his own head. “God, [Y/N], _no_ ,” He chuckles, and then his hand is on your arm. “I’m _n_ _ot_ fucking with you. Unless we’re taking out that ‘with.’”

Your cheeks flush with color, and you can’t figure out what the hell to say. Could you believe him? Why would you after the way he treated you? And not to mention, you thought, you’d have some serious apologies to make to your best friend. Seconds pass. You open and close your mouth, thinking of how to respond, but no words come out. The director’s voice can be heard calling both of your names from not too far away.

“Oh, for fucks sake, we don’t have time for this,” Chris huffs, and then his hands are grasping your face, cupping your cheeks, pulling you into him. And then his lips are crushed to yours, hot, passionate, _eager_. And genuine. You’re kissing him back, molding your lips to his as your eyes flutter closed and you melt into him, before you even realize the coffee cup slipping out of your grasp.

The hot splash of coffee licking at both of your legs is the only thing that breaks you apart, and when you both look down and see it soaking into the ground, you catch eyes and immediately burst into laughter.

“So, shall I take the burn scars now seared into my leg as the feeling is mutual, coffee girl?” Chris laughs, his hands falling to hold your waist.

Rolling your eyes, you give his shoulder a shove, blushing all over again. “Shut the hell up.”


End file.
